By the time the Bucentoro returned to the harbor after the church mass on the island, the sky turned ochre-yellow and the molten glass of the lagoon was gleaming in the setting sun. I was longing for a сup of hot tea and macaroons. When would we finally get to the shore?
However, when we were going past the wide mouth of the Grand Canal, our ship suddenly stopped. It was time for regatta everyone had been waiting for. And I`d completely forgotten about it.
They stretched a rope with bright flags between two barges to mark the finish line. The most skillful rowers of Venetta were to sail their gondolas along the canal right to its neck. That way was the most convenient; firstly, it was wide enough, and secondly, the noble ladies and signors could watch the rowers from the balconies of the Palazzo, lined up along the quay. The spectators were cheering their favorites with whistles and shouts. Bets were made. Everyone seemed to be excited about the race except me. I had more important things to do.
"Oh, Julia, here you are!” maître Faletrus was really happy to see me when I finally managed to talk to him. “And how is your gift going on?"
Everyone, just everyone kept asking me about paurozo after that memorable dinner at con Arsago`s. Really, not even my aunt`s health was their highest priority.
“It`s quiet, at least for now,” I said. “But I have heard that the children of the sea, especially the old blood, are greatly influenced by the moon. I was just going to ask you about that. Is there anything I should be afraid of?”
The old astrologist nodded.
“Well, I've heard of it, too. No one was able to put the theory to the test, though. Well, you shouldn`t worry for the next few days since the new moon is coming. But then… " he shook his head anxiously. “The moon has come so near this month that you can count all the wrinkles on her brow. The next full moon will be very strong.”
So much the better, I thought grimly. My lips became dry.
“Could you tell me exactly what day it will happen?"
He raised his eyes to the sky and began to count. The spectators were roaring and whistling around us. Quiet you! I wanted to shout. Don't disturb him! That was all Pulcino's fault, I got that gull impatience and irritability from him.
“The full moon is to be in eighteen days from this moment,” finally was the answer.
Eighteen days! So soon… And I wasn`t even an inch close to the clue yet!
The attention of all spectators was drawn to the regatta participants. People crowded the narrow embankment which now resembled a swirling dark strip. I was deep in though, looking at my new acquaintances, who belonged to the Venetian nobility. Don Arsago was standing nearby, watching the race with his fingers gripping the rail. The gondolier, dressed in his colours, came second. I remembered Ricardo`s words, "Old Soranzo will not last long, and as soon as the funeral bell strikes, a struggle for the Doge's cap will break out in the Palace... Don Arsago`s words will have great weight... recently there`s been two attempts against his life …”
Who was he, signor Arsago? The villain or the victim, entangled in court intrigues like a bumblebee caught in a web? I noticed that Enrique had been staying away from his father all day. But don Sacketti's sharp-nosed face was always at my fiance's side. And that looked suspicious too. Really, what a clever plan to marry the boy to a witch, eliminate the count and then take the place of an experienced adviser to the heir. Killing two birds with one stone, so to say: to secure his future and avenge Arsago for the betrayal of his wife... Joanna`s new protege also aroused serious suspicions.
Where is he, anyway? I thought.
The lutenist appeared beside Bianca. At first, I thought the dark head of the man beside her was Ricardo's, but when he turned his face I recognized that stranger. By the way, it was Bianca who had insisted on taking us for a walk that day. She had chosen the route that led us to the scene of the fight, the bridge between two narrow calles. What if she deliberately arranged that meeting?
The sound of the bell roused me from my reverie. The regatta finished very quickly, to my surprise. Or rather, only the first stage was over. The winners were beaming with smiles, the losers were blaming a rampaging boat or a heavy paddle for their failure. Down on the wharf, the person was calling out loudly to those who wished to take part in the second round. The lutenist with his striped jacket was already making his way towards. And when I saw who was coming next, I clenched my fingers nervously.
Enrique?! Why on earth would he…?
I was so puzzled that I`d probably said my last phrase out loud as someone chuckled right into my ear.
That was signor Sacketti.
"My boy, he`s still so young. Young and eager to show that he can go lengths. Don`t look at me, dear Julia, I`ve tried to talk him out of it. You know, our Enrique has had an argument with his father again. The Count reproached his son that he can only waste his money and is not capable of anything else. Enrique lost his temper and… well, you can see it yourself.
“But it's so dangerous... Oh, don Alessandro, too, decided to participate!” I exclaimed, leaning over the side to get a better look at the new participants.
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Don Alessandro`s actions were quite predictable after all his glances toward the new lutenist. Signor di Goro definitely trusted him no more than I did. So now when I knew that someone reliable would be near Enrique during the races, I felt more at ease.
“Look who`s here,” don Sachetti gave the guard a cunning smile. "Wants to curry favor and atone for his father's sins, for sure.”
I couldn`t help moving away from him. Suddenly the whole figure of signor Sacketti seemed to be filled with poison.
“What are you talking about? What sins?”
“So you don't know, do you? During the last conspiracy, it was the elder signor di Goro who betrayed Lorenzo Arsago and lured him into a trap. The Count was attacked in the church. So wicked! By the way, your father died there trying to protect signor Arsago. Didn't your brother tell you about it? Maybe he was too ashamed to admit he didn't even have the heart to retaliate.
Once again that terrible little laugh…
“People are getting so weak nowadays. In my time no one would ever believe that a son of a murdered man and a murderer`s son could become close friends! If you ask me, don Arsago's generosity was out of place. He`d better kill that boy at once. The bad blood will show itself…”
His vile mumbling was disgusting. Alessandro's father − a traitor?! I couldn`t believe that.
I was so shocked that I missed the gunfire announcing the start of the second regatta. Damn don Sacketti and his snake tongue! That was nothing but a lie, he was doing that on purpose just to spite me!
But if that was true… Well, then it was clear why Alessandro had such an aversion to masks. Also, that earnest conscientiousness of his, bordering with dog`s loyalty to his master. The Scripture taught us that children are not responsible for the sins of their fathers. Alessandro di Goro seemed to think otherwise.
The masks were everywhere. Who`s the enemy and who`s a friend – that was a question. Tonight we were all playing our roles here, on the Bucentoro. No one kept it real. I was playing the patrician. Joanna's shameless coquetry was also a mask to hide a desperate fear of getting old, ugly and lonely. Don Sacketti – thanks heavens, he had found another companion by then − masterfully pretended to be a cynic, but what was his real personality, only Horror knew. My brother's friendship with Alessandro now seemed insincere, too. Signor Arsago himself was like a deep well filled to the brim with dark secrets. Such people can keep secrets for years until they are completely poisoned from inside.
Meanwhile, the race continued. The amateur league took a shorter distance: from the Argento bridge to the neck of the Grand Canal. I was pleased to see that Enrique's boat came the third.
Oh, Madonna, please, let him win! Then, perhaps, don Arsago would be nicer to his son. Alessandro came the fourth. And the lutenist came the last.
That serves him right, I thought. Sailing was a delicate work, you needed not only a great deal of physical strength – that was a real art. Our hobo didn`t have necessary skills. His boat was wavering along the canal, drawing laughter and jokes from the spectators. The rivals looked angrily at him and tried to keep distance.
If I hadn't followed the suspicious lutenist so closely, I probably wouldn't have noticed a strange thing. It was already dark and the orange glare of the torches was blinding rather than revealing. But I saw that the fellow suddenly crouched like a cat and moved his hand in front of him. A hump of water rose and fell in front of his boat − and then his gondola leapt forward as if it was alive. I could swear he didn't even have to paddle!
At first no one paid attention to his manoeuvre. Only when the striped jacket flashed into the top ten rowers, the spectators broke into excited cheers. No one had put it on the unknown fellow, so I guessed a lot of people would lose a great deal of money tonight.
The lutenist ignored the admiring shouts just as he had ignored the taunts before. Gripping the oar tightly, he was standing at the stern of gondola – not a man, but a sea devil itself! He magically overtook two gondolas at once and came close to Enrique. His boat left such a churned trace so that the other participants had to slow down.
It all happened very quickly. As luck would have it, Enrique swung his paddle too far. The gondola rocked and he fell into the water. The audience gasped. The race came to a halt. I glanced at the Count who looked as grim as a stone, not even moving.
Alessandro stopped too. He dropped his paddle and helped his friend into his boat. Their regatta was over. After the shock passed, the spectators on the banks of the canal started scoffing in their usual manner.
"Look, there is moray in the water!” someone shouted. "Watch your heels!"
I also saw a speckled back flash moved through the waves once or twice. Usually the morays lurked themselves in their dark shelters somewhere in the recesses of small canals. They were really masters of disguise. But tonight`s two regattas, the crowd`s cheers and gunfire forced them to get closer to people in hope to get something to eat.
Fortunately, Enrique was safe. Together with Alessandro, they rowed to the wharf, moored their boats and were lost in the crowd, followed by spectators` jeers. Venetta doesn't like losers. Even if you are a noble patrician, people will always find the reason to make a joke of you. However, everyone forgot about them very soon as the audience`s attention was drawn to the finish.
I was not surprised when the lutenist was the first to pass between the barges and tear off the rope with the flags. Now he would inevitably face the Doge himself to get the award. Too bad that don Arsago was standing next to the Doge and Alessandro was stuck somewhere in the crowd. What if something bad happened?
Pulcino! Where on earth are you?
To my surprise, my friend did not respond immediately. It was so unlike him.
“No sleep and no rest to my weary soul," Pulcino croaked at last. “What's wrong, my wingless half-sister? Today's a holiday!”
If he were human, I'd think I'd dragged him out of a jolly tavern.
"Are you enjoying yourself, you little bum? I`m losing my mind here.”
The chiamata gift united our minds into one – and the world changed. My mouth watered at the rich smells of fish and rotten seaweed from the canal. The screams of the people grew louder (making me wince) and their figures now looked like bright spots in the gathering dusk.
I could see the lutenist drop on one knee before the Doge. Then he turned to don Arsago, who nodded and patted the winner on his shoulder. I kept my eyes on them. My fingers felt like bird claws on the rail. The golden chain he got as a present flashed as the lutenist suddenly looked back and caught my eye. A faint smile touched his face. I tensed and ... nothing happened!
The waves of the canal did not rise to the balconies, as happens during the acqua alta. His body did not turn inside out to release the sea creature, ready to devour everyone and everything. With a mocking nod at me he descended from the parade galley into the crowd, that greeted him with cheers. He was laughing and waving to them – well, he behaved like a normal person.
But for some reason I was still uneasy.